Joke's On You
by ninjasdrinkingtea
Summary: "What, they make you nervous?" "I've seen worse." Maxine Anderson, juggling her time interning as a nurse at Gotham General, dealing with her over-caring best friend and worried grandfather. She keeps ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time lately. Joker/OC-We'll see how this goes.
1. Chapter 1

The screeching of tyres. The loud, deafening sound of a car horn being slammed at a constant, demanding rate. An old lady's horrified scream from the sidewalk and finally, what seemed to be the loudest of them all was a name being cried out by an angry, horrified best friend.

"_Max!_"

Max threw herself backwards, away from the general direction of the car, her eyes widening in shock as it managed to swerve to a stop a meter or so from where she'd previously stood. The Volvo driver was immediately climbing out of the driver's door. His face filled with rage as she slammed her hand over the left side of her chest on top of her racing heart, her scream caught in her throat. It took her a few moments to realize that the guy was yelling at her.

"_What the hell's the matter with you?_"

She let her gaze trail over to him after her eyes raked over the old silver 940 Estate, something burning inside of her as she glared down at the Volvo. She disliked Volvos, _a lot_. If it wasn't for the fact that the silver bulk of a car was between them both then Max was sure that he would've headed straight towards her and wrapped his hands around her throat. He was probably around in his late fourties and resembled something along the lines of Voldemort.

Max processed his question that he screamed at her, the burning turning into something more familiar. Hatred and anger. She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Th...?" She rasped out barely even a word, trying to gather her words together. "The matter with _me_? You almost turned me into roadkill, _jackass_!" She snapped with disbelief. Was he honestly blaming her for his driving? For the fact that he almost killed her? She glared across the beat up car with distaste, only letting her eyes fall on the passengers in the back for a second. Men, to be precise, and four of them. She grimaced at the driver.

"You stupid bitch, you walked out into the middle with the road!"

Max barked out a dry, humourless laugh. "Are you being fucking serious? You almost kill me and you blame _me _for the fact that you don't even know how to_ drive_?" She growled, stomping around the front of the car towards the sidewalk.

"Quiet, lady, or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Max stopped in front of the hood. "You'll hit me? You'll shut my mouth for me? Oh, wow, or will you get into that punk-ass, silver hunk of shit of yours," She laughed, slamming her foot into the already dented bumper. "And finish the job? Well, _c'mon _then, give it your best shot! Let's find out if your aim isn't as bad your driving." She sneered.

The angry best friend of Maxine Anderson had quickly made her way over to Max while she threatened the driver, slamming her hands onto her shoulders and dragging her away to the sidewalk. Max didn't struggle and instead stared the bald driver as he climbed back into the Volvo.

"Whatever, just watch it next time," He snarled. Max flashed him a big, satisfactory smirk and nodded, giving him the thumbs up as Leah Davidson pulled her further away.

"Thanks, man! And watch the road, pal!"

Voldemort slammed his door shut, stomped on the gas pedal and drove away. Leah angrily shook her best friend, shrieking that she was an idiot for almost getting herself killed and pissing off an obvious criminal. Max didn't care, instead she watched the Volvo speed away, catching a final glimpse at the passengers. In her eyes, she'd done the right thing.

But she hadn't, and she'd just gambled with her future. One of the passengers sat amongst the rest, hidden beneath his ski mask, a small smirk on his scarred face. She had a little fight in her, he _liked _that. He liked that a lot. He found the whole ordeal amusing, _hilarious_. Many women would scream, probably faint if they were threatened by any of Gotham's criminals. But she didn't.

He wondered what she would do if he asked her what she thought of them. What she thought of his scars.

_Wanna ah, know how I got these scars?_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Weeks later...**_

Slamming her hand down onto the telephone that sat on a small table situated beside her long, dark blue couch, she picked the phone up and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

Once again, to Max's anger and disbelief, nobody answered. The line as usual remained silent with the soft sound of static lingering.

"_Hello?_" She bit out impatiently. How many times had it been now for the same pranksters to call her up without saying a single word? She couldn't count, it had been that many. Max knew that somebody was really on the other end of the line because she could just, _just _hear the sound of somebody breathing. Rolling her eyes, she slammed the phone down into it's cradle, muttering out a string of curse words as she stomped away to her bedroom.

At first the odd act frightened her after the first several calls. Was somebody about to walk through her apartment door and brutally murder her? She continued to ask that question to herself, frantically warning her friend Leah what was happening. _Leah _had even been there for when this had happened, several times in fact. Max's grandfather had been in her apartment too, confused about why Max wasn't answering the phone. She hadn't told him of course, thinking that it would just worry the poor man. She simply told him that she was receiving a bunch of cold callers.

As annoying as they were, she sometimes _wished _she had them instead, to ease the worry lingering in the back of her mind. The whole thing annoyed her now and had almost become second nature. The strange, silent phone calls had become a part of her every day life since they started around two or three years ago. Stupid pranksters.

Max tiredly began to tie her chestnut brown hair into a one-sided braid as she entered her bedroom, yawning as she made her way across the room to her small dresser. She fastened the hair tie that she picked up at the end of her braid, letting it rest on her shoulder. She turned and grabbed her thin black and white striped cardigan, pulling it on over her blue nurse uniform.

She hadn't been interning at Gotham General for very long, she'd been working there for five or six months after she graduated from med school. Her grandfather continued to regularly state how proud he was of her and how her grandmother would feel the same. The encouraging comments she received kept her going and made her work harder. Her ambition was to earn as much money as she possibly could so she could finally leave Gotham, bringing her grandfather with her. She didn't want to spend her future in the crime ridden city. She also hated how the elderly man who helped raised her had to spend each day in danger.

She wasn't being over-protective, it was a true statement that for every citizen in Gotham they faced the risks of being attacked by the many thugs and criminals swarming the streets. The forsaken city was one of the most crime infested cities of the United States, if not at the top of the list. Her grandfather had already been mugged several times in Gotham when she was younger, it wasn't a rare occurrence. He hadn't been mugged since the last time, when she was around nine or ten, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't happen again. And in his elderly age of seventy three it made him more vulnerable to the attackers.

After leaving her apartment, Max headed down the street on route towards the bank, peeking down at her purse that was zipped and clasped shut. She had time to drop into the bank and hand in the money that she had earned from baby-sitting and some money that she earned from occasionally waiting at a small restaurant down town. She hadn't worked as one of the waitresses a lot since she first started working at Gotham General, and it wasn't a huge sum of money that she had, but it all contributed to her small fund. She also started to give in a quarter of her paycheck that she got given monthly from her internship, starting this after her third month of working at the hospital.

It was a fairly nice day, she noted. The sun was peeking out amongst the clouds and there was only a slight, almost unnoticeable breeze. It was fairly early in the morning, and Max was sure that she would rather be in her bed rather than on then heading to work but it didn't seem to matter. She felt a smile tug on her lips as she walked among the other citizens, feeling a little positive towards her day so far. Everything seemed to be actually _working_, for once. It felt as if things were finally becoming a little easier. Not by much, not at all by much. But the small weight on her shoulders seemed to be lifting. She'd continue to work hard and to make her grandparents proud.

"Gah!"

She never saw him, she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Max crashed straight into the man, into this stranger. She had thought at first that she'd walked straight into a telephone poll or maybe even a _wall_, but the grunt of another person corrected her. They both seemed to have not paid attention to their surroundings, but Max was certain in the back of her mind that it was far too typical for her to run straight into a random person on the street. She was sent flying backwards towards the sidewalk, but before she made impact with the concrete, a hand grabbed onto her left forearm and and arm was wound around her waist, preventing her fall.

She swore softly as she scrambled upwards, trying to calm her jumbled, alarmed thoughts that seemed to race through her head. As she straightened her back and groaned slightly, checking to see that her purse was still hanging on her shoulder, she looked up at the stranger who she slammed straight into.

"Wow, I'm so-" She began, breathless, before she properly looked at him, or, at least tried to. Before she could fully look at the man's features, he quickly let go of her and veered around her slim frame. She of course didn't get to look at the face of the stranger, but she caught a flash of what appeared to be...the most impossibly white complexion that she has ever seen. So impossible, that she was certain that he was wearing makeup, or..._war paint? _And was that red over his face? She probably just imagined it, it was maybe just the trick of the light. Max watched the tall man, dressed in what appeared to be a casual suit and carrying a bulky blue bag, disappearing down the uncrowded street.

"...s_orry?_" She finished her sentence with uncertainty. Who the heck was that? He was obviously in a rush to be somewhere, she noted. Rolling her eyes she shook her head, turning and continuing down the street in the opposite direction from where he was headed. _Whatever_, she thought.

Max was soon walking up the stone steps of Gotham National Bank, small smile still intact as she pushed through the heavy wooden doors inside the building. The polished marble floor gleamed up at her as she turned right and made her way across it towards the waiting bank cashiers further along. She walked straight passed a security guard on her way, who politely smiled at her and gave her a nod. She returned the smile and continued on. As it was fairly early only a few people were around. She joined the very short queue, reaching inside of her purse and taking out the envelope of money to ready herself.

The ear-piercing sounds of bullets being fired inside the building very close by made Max's stomach drop. Her heart seemed to stop when she heard the screams and frightened cries of the people around her, all dropping to the floor in panic. Disbelief and horror came rushing over her in a exploding wave, sending her scrambling onto the ground, clutching onto her purse in fear.

_This couldn't possibly be happening!_

"All right, everybody! Hands up, heads down!"

The gruff, New York accent confirmed her fears as she pressed herself up against the second table to the far right of the bank, clutching at her ears in case any more bullets were to be fired. The heavy sound of running footsteps in her direction came louder. She watched with terror as a tall, thin man ran from her left straight in front of her, gun in his gloved hands. More screams erupted from around her as the armed man headed straight towards one of the bank tellers at the far end. The criminal appeared to be wearing a mask.

A quiet gasp escaped from her when she heard something drop onto the table above her and the sound of a bag zip being ripped open.

"I said hands up, heads _down!_" The criminal yelled, at least two meters away from the male bank teller. Shakily she raised her hands in the air, in clear view for the criminals to see, but didn't bow her head down as she was told. She defiantly watched the masked man as he continued to yell, gun aimed at whoever was in his way.

"Let's go, pal! I'm making a withdrawal here!" He growled out in his broad accent, leaning forwards and snatching hold of the bank teller who cried out a plea. The thug pulled him straight over the counter, making him fly over the wooden desk and onto the polished floor. He landed down with thud, grunting in pain from the impact of the slight fall. The masked thug stomped towards the left where a shaking woman stood, raising her hands up as he roared at her about having her hands up in the air. She cried out as he reached towards her.

Max watched, eyes wide as the man dragged her over the desk that she stood behind, but her attention veered onto a thug who ran around the table to her right, head snapping towards the right and then turning straight towards her where she hid silently. She tried to press herself further into the dark coloured wood as he stooped down in front of her, gun pointed directly at her head. Despite the screaming pleas of the female bank teller she managed to almost ignore her as she stared up at the masked criminal, studying the design of the mask. A frowning...clown?

She didn't see him reach into the blue shoulder bag that hung on him so when he grasped hold of her hands to place the object that he had taken from there, she of course struggled. He overpowered her though, making her clutch tightly onto the cold, metal that she'd been given. With the flick of his wrist, he pulled something out of the metal with a _click_. She couldn't stop shaking, watching the masked gun man as he tilted his head towards the right in almost interest. He gloved hand reached out towards her face, pressing against her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut.

_What? _She thought to herself. The black leather felt odd against the soft skin of her cheek as he caressed it, but it was suddenly gone in mere seconds. When she tentatively opened her eyes after a few moments, she saw him now hurrying over to a cowering man not far away.

"Obviously we don't want 'ya doing anything with your hands, other than holding on for dear life," The New York accented thug drawled out in his gruff voice. Max stared down at the metal item in her hands that she hadn't let go of yet, her eyes widening when she realized what she was holding. _A grenade!_

Her head snapped up towards the man who had made her hold the explosive weapon, her fearful gaze turning into a glare. His demeanour and apparel looked familiar, but where had she seen him? Her mind raced through the people who she knew in Gotham, trying to match the armed thug with a face. _Who?_

A loud thud, followed with a grunt from her left was heard. "On the ground! Stay on the ground, nobody make a move! Nobody!" A different man yelled, his voice much gruffer than the New Yorker guy. "Stay down!"

A loud boom erupted after the thug finished yelling, the sound of glass shattering and falling to the ground towards her left. The criminal with the frowning clown mask dropped to the ground, scrambling across the marble floors towards the table that she sat hidden. She glared at him as he hid at the side of the wooden desk around the corner from her, his gun raised, ready to shoot. Another shot was fired above them both, and she let out another gasp, the second sound that she'd made since the arrival of the masked thugs.

Footsteps were approaching as the armed man pushed himself up from the floor slightly, hurrying forwards in a crouched run. The desk was his only cover and he was remarkably lucky that he hadn't been hit since the latest gunman had fired a few more times at hm. He retreated down towards the right end of the bank where the final dark wooden table was situated and hid behind it.

"Do 'ya have any idea who you're stealing from? You and your friends are dead!"

Max recognised the latest gunman by his voice; he was the the manager of Gotham National Bank. Further down from where she hid, clutching her own grenade, she heard one of the criminals question on whether or not he had ran out of ammunition. After a few seconds of silence, Max watched a thug shoot upwards from his hiding spot, but was immediately shot at. He dropped to the ground, leaving Max unsure on whether or not the manager had successfully hit him. Not followed long after several clicks were heard from behind her, indicated that the manager was out.

A different masked man, the one that had caressed her cheek, jumped up from where he was covered behind the table, shooting directly at the manager. The hits were confirmed after she heard a soft grunt and the sound of something heavy collapsing to the floor. She peeked out from around the table to see the masked gunman, almost breathless as he cocked his head to the side, staring down towards the presumably dead or injured bank manager. His head slowly turned slightly towards her.

"_Where did you learn to count?_"

The heavily accented thug who she wasn't sure was dead was in fact alive, standing there and questioning the other criminal in an growl of disbelief. The man with the frowning clown mask turned his head towards him. The New Yorker shook his head, stalking off towards another area of the bank, leaving the other masked man here.

Max wondered when the police were going to arrive. Wasn't a silent alarm pressed by a member of staff? She was sure that one of the employees would have pressed it, if not the manager. She was brought out of her own thoughts when she saw the lone thug slowly making his way towards her, glancing around at the other fearful citizens. His gaze wasn't on Max it seemed, but right beside her, onto the ground. Her gaze quickly trailed down onto the ground for a brief second, making her remember that she hadn't been holding onto the envelope of money since she dropped to the ground earlier.

He stooped down briefly, snatching up the brown envelope and it into a pocket on the inside of his suit, casting one last glance at her as he went off, presumably following the other thug. Max wanted to yell after the criminal for taking her envelope of money which she desperately _needed_, that she'd _earned_. It was meant to contribute to her and her grandfather's ticket out of Gotham! She stayed silent though despite the growing anger inside of her. Now wasn't the time to start screeching about her money being taken, the main goal now was _survival_.

Both criminals appeared, carrying and dragging several, bulky bags across the gleaming floor, passed her and the other citizens towards the far right of the bank. The deposited them in a heap, leaving two behind close to her.

"That's a lot'a money. If this Joker guy was so smart, he'd of had us bring a bigger car."

The New Yorker cocked his hand gun and raised it in the air towards the silent thug who had began to turn away from him to grab the rest which were located directly in front of Max. The man wearing the frowning clown mask froze for a few seconds and slowly turned towards his fellow crook, speaking once again.

"I'm bettin' the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded the cash..."

Almost seeming to be exasperated, the criminal in front of him raised his left arm in the air, appearing to be checking the time on his wrist with an annoyed sigh. For the first time since he had run into the bank and been a part of the robbery, it was the first time that he had spoken.

"No, no, no no. I kill the_ bus_ driver." He muttered, looking back and taking a step towards the right.

His voice seemed a lot softer compared to the other thug who was pointing the gun at him, almost nasally perhaps. His cryptic response even made Max question it silently, furrowing her brow in confusion. The bus driver? They surely weren't going to run outside with all of those heavy, money filled bags and catch a damn _bus?_

The other became quiet for a few moments. "Bus driver?"

He followed the other thug with his gun raised, watching him with apparent confusion as he kept side stepping towards the right in a circle- away from where had stood before.

"_What bus driver?_" The other criminal demanded. And then with absolute perfect timing, the bus driver made his shocking entrance.

The signature yellow school bus crashed through the line of doors on the far right wall of the bank, directly behind the two armed thugs. The one who questioned the other on the bus driver spun his head around but the reversing bus was too quick for him to react in time to save himself. The masked man was knocked down by the large vehicle, plummeting down to the ground amongst the debris Max couldn't believe it...she _wouldn't _believe it. A getaway on a school bus?

The remaining masked man swayed slightly, staring down at the mess on the ground and the now deceased man, taking a step forward. As he did so, the exit door at the rear of the school bus was thrown open, and out climbed a short, bulky man.

"School's out, time to go."

He continued to speak to the other masked guy who he'd just crashed in on, catching the bags of cash that were thrown at him. He threw each of them inside of the empty bus, breathlessly stating about the amount of money. From that small pile of money filled bags, the taller criminal began to head away to the few bags that were left in front of her.

"What happened to the rest of the guys?" The shorter man wondered out loud. As a response, he received several bullets shot directly at him. He collapsed to the ground.

Max bit the inside of her cheek as she glared at the last standing masked gunman who swaggered over to the remaining cash in front of her. He stooped down to pick it up, inclining his head in her direction as he did so. She pressed herself harder against the side of the table, but he didn't linger.

As he threw the two bulky bags into the back of the school bus, she had a choked out grunt from behind her.

"Think you're smart, huh?" The bank manager was not in fact dead, but grasping onto his life, of little of it that he had left. He made a sort of gurgling noise as he continued. "Well this guy who hired you's just do the same to you..."

The remaining crook who had about to climb up into the reer of the bus had turned as the bank manager choked out his sentences, now strolling towards the injured man. He removed something from his back pocket.

The manager continued. "Oh, criminals in this town used to believe in things..." He trailed off, each of his words coming out in what sounded to be a struggle. "Honour. _Respect_! Look at you, what do you believe in, huh? _What do you believe i_-"

Max watched from behind the table in terror as the masked man crouched down and slides a grenade into the injured man's mouth. For the second time now, the masked man spoke.

"I believe, whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you..." He began in his odd, soft voice. Max's eyes widened as he removed his clown mask, revealing a gruesomely painted face underneath. Chalk-white face, the area around his eyes smudged with black paint and a disturbing blood red smile twisting upwards, carved up wards to his cheeks. He looked up, as if to think, and continued.

"_...Stranger_." He finished. Not moments later, a wild, satisfied grin appeared on his face and he was suddenly up, swaggering back over towards the bus. That was when she noticed the coloured thread unraveling from his suit jacket as he walked, still attached to the grenade. He climbed up into the bus, but not before casting one last glance in Max's direction. She held tightly onto the grenade still in her hands, watching as he slammed the yellow exit door shut, trapping the thread.

The bus roared to life, and not moments later he was driving off, out of the side of the bank. With a click she heard the grenade being set off, the metal clattering to the marble floor behind her. Seconds later the sound of gas being released made her stomach plummet. Gas grenades? A gurgle from behind her confirmed her suspicions.

"Shit." She cursed under her breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Max hadn't seen her best friend, Leah Davidson_,_ so angry before. It was a _scared _anger, the combination of the two not so great. Both woman were sat in the police station that belonged to Gotham, waiting for a member of staff to give permission for them to leave. After she and the other civilians in the bank were safely removed from the building and the grenades were carefully disposed of, she was taken into an ambulance to be checked. Then, she had been took down to the station for questioning about the events of that morning. Jim Gordon, head of the MCU had contacted Max's best friend for support and to let know her that Max was fine.

If Max let it remain silent for much longer between the both of them, Leah might just go insane from the tension and brutally commit murder.

Not to that extent of course, but Leah's fiery personality often freaked Max out.

"Lee, it's-"

Before she could utter another word, Leah angrily swung her arm down and whacked her friend's upper arm repeatedly. Max cried out, recoiling away from the attack and further along the bench they were both seated on. Her attempts of getting away from her annoyed friend was hopeless. She received several more hits, crying out in protest, but Leah wasn't listening.

"First the...damn..._car_...now..._this?_" She growled out angrily, her hand balling up into a fist and instead of slapping, she punched Max's arm instead. Max soon managed- with great difficulty, to grab Leah's arm and end her angry assault. unfortunately this didn't stop her best friend from yelling down at her angrily. "You're like a damn magnet for trouble, Max! Why do you keep trying to get yourself _killed?_"

"Hey!" Max protested as she straightened herself out. "I am not! I didn't _intentionally_ walk into the bank knowing that a group of clowns were going to commit a robbery, did I?"

Leah rolled her eyes, pressing her back against the wall behind them. "No, but it's so typical of you, Max. I wouldn't be surprised if that creepy bald guy and his friends did it, setting out to kill you after you ran out in front of their car!"

"He almost ran me over!" Max defended myself. "Stop being over-dramatic about it, Lee. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all. Please, just...stop worrying."

Her best friend narrowed her apple green eyes a little, folding her arms as she stared her down. Max could tell that she was debating with herself over whether there was any point with arguing with her any further. She could tell that Leah needed to blow off more steam, as it was _Leah_. But Max knew that she was right. She'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, there was nothing else to it.

But of course, Leah wasn't finished. "And what about your grandpa, huh? You didn't let them call him down here. You gonna try to cover this up too then?"

"What exactly do you want me to do, Leah? Call him down here, give him a freakin' heart attack?"

"Max," She shook her head. "This isn't the same as walking out in the middle of the road and almost being run down by a bunch of creeps. This'll be all over the news, over the papers...you can't cover this one up! There'll be CCTV footage being played over the news, reports on the _victims_, which if you've forgotten, you are _one _of them. Reporters will be pouncing on you, trying to get the scoop on _what exactly happened_ and _how you felt. _This isn't something you're gonna be able to brush under the carpet, he'll find out sooner than you think."

As much as Max didn't want to think it, Leah was right. Of course the media would be going absolutely nuts over what had happened that morning, of course she would get recognized for being in the incident. Her plan to keep her grandpa from knowing, from _worrying_ about her safety was rapidly backfiring. He was going to find out about what had happened, whether she liked it or not. Who's to say he hasn't found out already? It would probably be streaming on the GCN now as breaking news.

With a sigh, Max nodded once. "Right, okay. You're right."

"Sorry, what was that?" Leah asked, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise. "It sounded like you just admitted I was right...huh. Here, could you right that down for me on paper? I wanna frame it."

Grumbling softly to herself, Max shoved her friend gently in the arm, giving her a mild glare. Both woman glared at each other for a few moments, a grimace intact on their faces, but amusement grew in each of their eyes. Leah shoved her palm into Max's forehead playfully yet with care, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"No more getting yourself almost killed, okay? We'll start with remembering to look both ways before crossing the road," She murmured, squeezing her shoulders. "My kindergartens know better."

Max rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Of course Leah would liken her to her young students. Resting her head on her friend's shoulder, the nurse stared off into space, eyes transfixed on nothing in particular. The two friends sat like this for a few minutes until they were broken out of their quiet moment together. Both of their gazes landed on the officer before them.

"I appreciate that it has been a long, tiring day for you, Max." Jim Gordon stared down at the young woman through his rectangular shaped glasses, his blue eyes kind as they often always appeared. She looked exhausted, some of her hair loose from the braid she had tied, still dressed in her work uniform. Max had known Jim for a while and from time to time baby sat his kids while him and his wife Barbara were at work or out for dinner.

Straightening up, she smiled at the lieutenant. "It has," She agreed. "Is there anything else you guys need me for down here? I really have to be getting home, in fact, I need to see my grandpa..."

"No, you've given your account of what has happened and you're allowed to leave. I take it your friend will drive you to wherever you need to go?"

"Will you?" Max cocked her head towards Leah, pursing her lips. Leah confirmed this with a nod, and Max continued. "Do you still need a babysitter tomorrow? I'm happy to watch over James and Hannah-"

The lieutenant shook his head, interrupting her. "You don't have to, Max. After earlier today I'm sure you need to take a couple of days to recover from what happened-?"

"Recover? I'm fine," She interrupted him this time. "s'all in the past now, life goes on." She flashed him a toothy grin and earned an exasperated glare from her friend seated beside her.

"Okay, as long as you're sure. Come round at seven, or...?"

"Right, seven, that's fine." She stood from the bench, Leah standing seconds after her. "See 'ya, Jim."

The man gave her a kind smile as she grabbed her purse. "Have a safe journey, alright? I don't want to have to see you around here any time soon, Max!"

She very much hoped so too.

* * *

Leah had dropped Max off at her grandfather's house on the suburbs of the city that evening. The nurse walked in to the living room to find her grandpa watching the news with a disturbed look on his face as he watched the headlines. As she had predicted, the events of that morning was breaking news. He had turned to her and started to ramble away about the group of men wearing clown masks who robbed the bank.

At the time, she'd thought to herself that maybe she wouldn't tell him yet about the fact that she had actually _been_ there during the crime. He seemed so gripped about the news story, giving her a brief summary of what had happened. As odd as it sounded, she liked the idea of pretending that she hadn't been there, that she was just like the hundreds of other citizens in Gotham who were watching this headline. Shocked by the ordeal, speculating with others about the odd men in the masks. She wanted to badly look on the event like an outsider, as if she had watched it from a window instead. But flashes of Leah's words rang through her mind, reminding her that she had been there and she couldn't avoid not telling her grandpa.

Not knowing where to start after he'd finished speaking, she managed to pull together seven words and murmur them out jokingly, with a shaky grin on her face.

'_You wouldn't believe the day I've had..._'

It had been a rocky start to her explanation and it was safe to say that her grandfather had been horrified by what she had told him. From where she had been perched on the other arm chair beside him, he quickly stood and pulled her into his arms. They both held tightly onto each other, Max glad to be in the comfort of her grandpa and Samuel Anderson not only relieved that she was home safe, but afraid to let go of her. Half an hour they sat, Max explaining what had happened. The guns, the guy with the war paint, the bank manager who stormed out of his office with his gun bravely, the bus...but she left out one detail. The envelope of money that the criminal with paint smeared on his face had taken.

Why had she done that? She hadn't initially intended to at first, but the look on her grandpa's face when he asked if any of those thugs had touched her...the lie was already tumbling from her lips without a second thought. He didn't need to know about that, or when the masked man had _touched_ her face. Or had it been a caress? It didn't matter, the situation was bad as it was, adding on to it would just cause further worry and stress to the old man. So instead, she just kept the details to a minimum as much as she could and kept reassuring him that she was fine.

Although, she didn't decline his offer for her to stay over night. The thought of going back to her empty apartment was almost sickening. Her mind had cruelly produced images of a man in a clown mask lurking in her home, ready to pounce from around a corner or a closet.

Max was now in her own home after returning the next morning. During the hour she had been there, she had searched cautiously for any hiding intruders, baseball bat in hand. She then fixed herself something to eat and sat down in front of the television, intently watching the news. They were speculating over the robbery of course, showing reporters trying to get information out of members of the GPD and along with them, Gordon. He hurried passed them though, ignoring their questions as he entered the bank. There were even live interviews with a couple of the victims Max recognized from the bank. She ate her cereal silently, shaking her head.

How could they be able to sit in front of a camera, live on television and be a part of that interview? A _day _after it had happened? She knew that she wouldn't agree to coming on Gotham Cable News and make her own recollection on what had happened that morning. She also knew that there was a chance that she was going to be contacted by reporters and the GCN, as after all, she was there, being shown on the footage too.

The news station didn't show all the footage that had been recorded, of course. Just a couple of parts that shown the masked gunmen and, most importantly, the man wearing the grease paint. After the third selected piece of footage used, they froze the image directly at a point where the man was staring up towards the security camera after he had been unmasked.

Max's stomach dropped slightly, no longer listening to the reporter or what he had to say. Her eyes were transfixed on his painted face, widening slightly after a few seconds. Uncomfortable, she dropped the spoon she held, letting it clatter into the bowl in her other hand. With a shudder, she reached the remote, snatching it up and pointed it towards the television as quickly as she could. The image changed after a single second and Max relaxed from where she sat on her blue couch, relieved to see a woman pottering around in a kitchen on a cookery channel.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself up from her seat, bowl still in hand. The content inside it was beginning to go mushy but she decided it didn't matter. She'd lost her appetite and it was time to get ready for work.

* * *

"Max, what are you _doing _here?"

Clipboard in hand, she brushed passed her colleague, staring down at a patient's charts. Sebastian Greene followed her down the ward, presumably to check on the patient she was reading up on, a bewildered look on his face. She threw him a look over her shoulder and then started back down at the clipboard.

"Earning a living?" She replied, slowing to a stop beside a patient's bed. She scanned over the sleeping woman, eyebrows raised in surprise. Mrs. Harrison had already taken her medication that Max was meant to give her, and it looked to be that somebody had already done her job. Turning back to Sebastian, she gestured towards the married woman. "She's already been attended to?"

The doctor averted his gaze away, slowly nodding. "Yes, Gemma gave her medication five minutes before you arrived. As, you are after all, a little late."

"I'm sorry, I had to put my uniform in the laundry and borrow some scrubs from the locker room," She apologized, placing the clipboard at the end of the woman's bed where she had retrieved it from. "I was only ten minutes late all toge-"

"Max, the police are here," He interrupted her, an uneasy look on his face. Running a hand through his hair, he averted his gaze away from her for a moment, and then looked back at her. "they're here to talk about what happened yesterday in the bank."

She blinked at him. "Are they? Did they say anything specific about it?"

"No, they just appeared and explained that they needed to speak to you down at the station. I last saw them they were in the lob-"

"Maxine Anderson?"

Both members of staff turned to see two police officers, a man and a woman. The woman, who caught Max's attention immediately, was someone who she had met at the station the day before. Dark jacket over her shoulders, light brown striped shirt and hair tied up in a neat ponytail, Anna Ramirez gave the nurse a tight smile. She slipped out her police badge, presenting it to the woman opposite her.

"Yes?" Max replied, gaze flickering to the officer behind the woman. Her gaze fell back to Ramirez as she responded.

"Detective Ramirez, you probably remember me from yesterday. I've come to tell you that you're needed back at the station for further questioning." The Latino woman informed her, her tone professional as her brown orbs searched over the nurse. Max felt slightly awkward underneath the detective's scrutinizing gaze, but didn't show it as she slowly nodded. Her plans to carry on after the incident were corrupted and the nurse couldn't help but feel a little dejected. Of course things wouldn't go back to normal as quickly as she wanted them to, this could take days, if not weeks for things to settle down again.


End file.
